


everything stays

by sinshine



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinshine/pseuds/sinshine
Summary: Galo made a small, surprised shriek and slapped at the lamp on his nightstand. His room was illuminated for one brief moment, revealing Lio looming ominously over him, before the lamp was turned off again.“No lights,” Lio hissed, “I don’t know if I was followed.”“What?”“Someone is trying to kill me,” Lio said, voice low and eerily calm. “Don’t panic, but I think I’ve been poisoned.”
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 35
Kudos: 891





	everything stays

**Author's Note:**

> based on that headcanon that the promare kept the burnish from getting sick :]

Galo woke suddenly in the middle of the night and sat up in bed. The apartment was quiet and dark, but he had the impression that some kind of noise had disturbed him. He strained his ears to listen, but when all that he could pick up was the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen, he yawned and let himself fall back onto the mattress. Galo closed his eyes and tried to recall the dream he had been having. Something about roses…

“Galo,” someone whispered in the darkness.

Galo made a small, surprised shriek and slapped at the lamp on his nightstand. His room was illuminated for one brief moment, revealing Lio looming ominously over him, before the lamp was turned off again.

“No lights,” Lio hissed, “I don’t know if I was followed.”

“ _What?_ ” Galo threw back the blankets and slung his legs out of bed. He groped around in the darkness for Lio and grabbed his hand. “What do you mean? Are you alright?”

“Someone is trying to kill me,” Lio said, voice low and eerily calm. “Don’t panic, but I think I’ve been poisoned.”

“ _What!_ ” Galo stood and went quickly into the bathroom, pulling Lio along with him. He closed the door and switched on the light, making both of them blink at the sudden brightness. Galo cupped Lio’s face in his palms and began to search his eyes and complexion for anomalies. “If you’re poisoned then you should be at a hospital!”

“No fucking way--” Lio jerked away from Galo’s touch, turning his head to make a hacking cough.

“That sounds pretty rough,” Galo said sympathetically. He brushed Lio’s bangs aside and put his palm on his forehead, taking note of Lio’s flushed skin and glassy eyes. “Sore throat? You’re burning up, too.”

“Yes, because I’ve been _poisoned_.”

“No, because you volunteered at the school this week and it’s flu season.” Galo opened the medicine cabinet and took out a small blister pack of bright orange pills.

“But I can’t find Gueira and Meis,” Lio said, sounding a little panicked. Now that he wasn’t whispering, Galo could hear how hoarse he really was. “If something happened to them--”

“Aren’t they having a date night? They’re probably still out.” Galo closed the cabinet and tapped on its mirrored surface. “Remember how some of those kids looked? Red eyes, runny noses, coughing.”

Lio stared at his reflection, blinking slowly. Now that Galo had pointed it out, he could see the resemblance, especially in the hollowed-out look to his eyes. But after years spent fighting tooth-and-nail for his right to live-- clawing his way out of traps and dodging dozens of would-be assassins-- succumbing to something as simple as a communicable disease seemed awfully… mundane. Lio grimaced and turned to Galo. “I’m just… sick? But I feel _a_ _wful_.”

“Yeah, dude. Feeling like your insides wanna trade places with your outsides is part of the package deal.” Galo reached around Lio to open the door, putting a hand on his shoulder to guide him out of the bathroom. “You should sit down and I’ll get you some water. How did you even get in here?”

“I have my ways,” Lio said menacingly, but it was immediately followed by another coughing fit.

“Your water just got upgraded to a tea,” Galo announced. He turned on the lamp and directed Lio to sit on the bed while he dug around in his closet. “When did you start feeling sick?”

“This afternoon. I thought I was just tired, so I went to bed early. But then I woke up and thought I was dying.” Lio returned to speaking in a whisper to keep his throat from hurting as much. He tried to pay attention to what Galo was doing, but focusing his thoughts was an increasingly difficult task. Why was he still in Galo’s bedroom? He needed to leave. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you with this.”

“You’re not bothering me.” Galo emerged from the closet and handed Lio the smallest t-shirt and sweatpants he owned. “Get changed and I’ll be right back, okay?”

Lio blinked slowly at the clothes, then up at Galo. “I broke into your home in the dead of night. And you’re inviting me to sleep over?”

“You came to me for help, right?” Galo smiled and gently pat Lio’s arm. “I’m helping. Get changed, I’ll make tea.”

Lio tried to protest but Galo had already left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He stared down at the clothes in his hands and tried to consider his options. Now that he knew what was wrong, it should be a simple thing to go to a drugstore and then back to his own home, but the adrenaline that fueled his flight to Galo’s apartment had left him along with the threat of imminent death. In its place, an unnatural weariness had settled in his bones and Lio realized just how unbalanced he felt even while seated.

 _Not dying._ _I s_ _hould_ _leave._

_Galo is here. He said he would help._

_I_ _don’t need anyone’s help._ _I can handle this myself._

 _B_ _ut I don’t_ have _to. I feel terrible and_ _Galo already knows what to do._

 _I’m weak, that makes me a target. Need to leave, need to g_ _et s_ _omewhere_ _secure_ _._

_Galo wouldn’t hurt me. That’s why I came here._

_H_ _ow can you be sure_ _?_

  
  


Lio was startled by a light knock on the door. How long had he been sitting there? He got off the bed and quickly changed his clothes, pushing through a fresh wave of dizziness.

"Oh," Galo said when Lio opened the door. He was holding a tray loaded with a glass of water, a mug of tea, the orange pill pack from the bathroom, and a tiny glass jar filled with some red paste that Lio didn't recognize.

"What?" Lio tried to glare at him but the best he could manage was an annoyed pout. His hasty movements had made the dizzy feeling worse, but he did feel more comfortable in the soft, pastel-colored fabrics. He still had one hand on the door and he hoped it wasn't obvious that it was helping him stand upright.

"Nothing. I just don't think I've seen you wear not-black before." Galo waited expectantly in the doorway, but Lio didn't move. "Can I come in?"

"Right." Lio reluctantly let go of the door and stepped aside, swaying a little. He let Galo goad him into sitting down on the bed again, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't be there. "I'll leave when the dizziness stops."

Galo made a concerned hum and set the tray down on the nightstand. He broke a pair of pills out of the blister pack and passed them to Lio along with the glass of water. "I don't think you should go anywhere until your face stops feeling like the inside of a furnace. Take two of these now and let's see how you do."

Lio swallowed the pills without complaint and Galo traded out the water in his hand for the tea, making sure that he had a firm grip on the mug. Lio brought it close to his nose and sniffed at the still-steaming surface. He couldn't smell much, but the vapor felt nice on his face. "What’s this?"

"Chamomile, with lemon and honey." Galo sat next to Lio on the bed and lightly touched his forehead again, his fingers brushing through his bangs. "It’ll help your throat, but you don't have to drink it if you don't want to."

Lio sniffed the drink again and took a cautious sip. It tasted warm and sweet, and made his throat feel less like hell, so he drank a little more.

 _I s_ _houldn’t_ _stay._

_Galo doesn’t mind._

_Galo’s too polite to call someone a burden to their face._

_He doesn’t think that. He wouldn’t think that._

_You’ve loved people who have hurt you before._

  
  


Lio realized that he must have zoned out again, because now Galo was tugging an empty mug out of his hands. The room tilted, or maybe he tilted. When did he lie down? He felt much too warm, much too raw. And he should leave, he should leave, but both his vision and his thoughts were swimming and it was easier to close his eyes. It was easier to let his head sink into a pillow that felt like a cloud and focus only on the feeling of Galo’s hand smoothing over his hair.

_I can’t stay._

_‘Sure you can.’_

_I…_ _yeah._ _Galo w_ _ouldn’t_ _hurt me._ (The hand in his hair paused for a fraction of a second.)

_‘Of course not. You’re safe here, Lio.’_

  
  


Lio didn't remember falling asleep, but he opened his eyes to a darkened room. He still felt disoriented and weak, but he recognized the warm press of another body in the bed with him. He was sleeping back to back with someone.

"Galo?" Lio's voice was barely more than a croak.

"M'here," Galo mumbled, words slurring together. "Go back to sleep."

"...Okay."

  
  


  
  


  
  


The next time Lio woke, the room was lit with the glow of late-morning sunlight. He rubbed his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position. Galo wasn't there, but Lio could hear movement somewhere else in the apartment. He gingerly got out of bed and stood up, breathing a sigh of relief when the dizzy feeling didn't return, and went out into the living room.

"Hey, good morning!" Galo greeted him with his usual enthusiasm, but he kept his volume a few decibels lower. He got up from the couch and approached Lio, checking the color of his face and putting a hand on his forehead. "Your fever hasn't come back, so that's good."

Lio noticed that the television was on, but muted, and there was Burning Rescue paperwork spread out on the coffee table. He cleared his throat to test it out and found that it still hurt but didn't feel as miserable as yesterday. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"I'm working from home today."

"Galo--"

"And I talked to Meis, he's covering your volunteer work. Are you hungry? I've got soup cooking."

"I... sure."

Lio let himself be lead over to the couch and allowed Galo to wrap him in a blanket that was patterned with firetrucks and dalmatians. He wasn't sure that he needed it, but apparently he had lost his sweatpants at some point and so decided to cover himself for modesty's sake. And, though it was strange and unfamiliar to him, it was also kind of nice. It was nice to be fussed over and treated with care and to be touched gently.

"Let it cool first," Galo said as he set two bowls of chicken soup on the coffee table. "How's your breathing? Do you need more tiger balm?"

"More what?"

"Tiger balm. The stuff on your chest."

Lio frowned and tugged on the collar of his shirt. He still couldn't smell much, but he caught a whiff of a sharp herbal scent. "Cinnamon?"

Galo sat down next to Lio, watching him curiously. "How much do you remember from last night?"

"I broke your window," Lio said, a memory of shattered glass rising to the surface of his muddled consciousness. He glanced at it now and saw that it had been covered with a trash bag and duct tape. "Ah. Sorry about that."

"That's okay. What else?"

"You gave me some medicine and tea... and I fell asleep. I think I woke up a few times?" Lio frowned. "Sorry for stealing your bed. Won't you get sick?"

"Haven't you heard? Idiots don't catch colds." Galo teased him. "I tried to sleep on the couch but you, uh, got upset when I left the room."

A different kind of heat colored Lio's face. "Did I... cry on you?"

"Only a little," Galo said kindly, while Lio groaned and pulled the blanket over his head.

"Sorry."

"You're saying that word wrong." Galo lifted the edge of the blanket and tilted his head so that he could see Lio's face, giving him a bemused smile. "It's 'thank you.'"

"Ugh. Thank you for allowing me to fill your home with pestilence." Lio coughed miserably.

"I guess that's a little better," Galo conceded. "Y'know, it's okay to ask me for help, even when you're not having a near-death experience. That's what friends are for."

Lio swallowed nervously. He couldn't tell if that statement was Galo's regular brand of strangely-insightful compassion or if it was in response to something that he'd said and couldn't remember. "I wasn't sure if we were, um, normal-stuff friends."

"I would never call you 'normal.'" Galo grinned and ruffled the blanket, mussing Lio's hair. "Breaking into a seventh floor apartment through a window that isn’t near the fire escape is pretty extraordinary. I'm still not really sure how you got up here."

"Me neither," Lio admitted, making Galo laugh. He smiled too, despite himself. "My relationships have always been location-based. Friendships of convenience. They don't last after I've moved on to another city."

"Except for Gueira and Meis, right?"

Lio shrugged. "Actually, I met them about a week before I met you. I... I don't know if they're normal-friends either."

"But you're living with them," Galo said sadly. "I know they care a lot about you."

"I'm sleeping on their couch. I don't really..." Lio fell quiet before he could accidentally reveal even more of his insecurities. He decided that he hated being sick. He didn't feel like himself, or maybe he felt too much? It was harder to shove down his anxieties and feign indifference when most of his physical form was focused on emulating a dumpster fire. What did it matter if he wasn't sure that he had friends? What did it matter if he was frightened by the permanence of having his own apartment? Lio knew for certain that there was no one in his home town who missed him. What if he tried to settle and build a life here, only to have the people he cared about realize just how little of him was left after you stripped away the anger and violence?

"Hey, c’mere." Galo put his arms around Lio's blanketed form and hugged him. "All you have to do right now is rest. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Lio closed his eyes and leaned into Galo's touch. He hated that his body's first response to any kind of emotional turmoil was to cry. “You don’t know that.”

“Lio, I’m going to say to you what the team says to me whenever I’m in a bad mood: ‘Lio--’”

“They call you ‘Lio?’”

“I’m substituting your name, don’t be a jackass.”

Lio laughed, then coughed wetly, and Galo grabbed a box of tissues off the coffee table for him.

“They’d say, ‘Lio, are you actually in a bad mood or are you just hungry?’”

Lio blew his nose before answering. “I suppose some food might help.”

Two bowls of soup later, the paperwork remained forgotten on the table while an animated movie played on the TV. Lio was still cocooned in the blanket and he laid his head on a pillow in Galo’s lap, drifting in and out of consciousness. Galo had one arm resting along the back of the couch while the other rubbed idly up and down Lio’s blanketed form.

“Galo.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

Galo hummed and reached into the folds of fabric to find one of Lio’s hands, his thumb brushing over his knuckles.


End file.
